Young Jane Young Makes a Pet Rock Look Like a Great Gift

Way back in the 1970’s pet rocks became the rage. After pushing my way through Young Jane Young, I have determined that buying a pet rock would be more interesting than struggling through Young Jane Young.

Gabrielle Zevin has written a dull book that gets along on conversation only. There aren’t any descriptions, no intrigue, nothing of interest. Sad to say but a pet rock would be more interesting.

Young Jane Young does not center on Aviva having an affair with a Congressman. The infidelity is merely mentioned. Then Gabrielle Zevin carries on for way too many pages about Aviva’s Jewish mother who sounds just like a female Wood Allen.

I slogged through the first one hundred pages, wondering if a point was going to be introduced, and to my surprise, there wasn’t. There literally was not a plot to be interested in. Zevin banters on about who I thought was the main character—-Avivia’s mother and then launches into two other characters who we are literally plopped down into the middle of their lives. I also noticed men have been determined to be self centered cads in Zevin’s world, because apparently none of them stick around long enough to make a life with any of her characters.

I originally thought, Young Jane Young was a good book to read, but as I continued on, it didn’t develop, get better or have anything dramatic, interesting, or intruiging happen. I could not develop any interest or empathy for Zevin’s one dimensional characters, that apparently are all the same—-single women who refuse to compromise.

Yikes, the book is driven by banal conversation without a thing happening—nothing. There’s no sex, not an ounce or a hint of drama, something happening, or a character perhaps finding love and having something positive happen.